Page 62 of Big Britches

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Page 62 of Big Britches

“His name is Pedro.”

Truman nodded as if he knew that already, too.

Both men were at somewhat of a stalemate, neither knowing how to go further with the conversation. Titus finally broke the silence.

“I’ve always done what people expected of me. I won all those state championships, married the town sweetheart, gave you a grandchild and the illusion of a perfect son. But it wasn’t me, Daddy, not all of me anyway. The one person in this world that knew it best is dead. Violet saw through it all. She left me a letter after she was gone, encouraging me to be my true self, to live an authentic life. So, I’m not just doing this for me, Daddy. I’m also doing it for her. Violet’s dying wish was for me to be happy, and you know how hard it is for me to let anyone down.”

Truman said nothing, just listened. Titus continued.

“If she hadn’t died, I probably would have repressed myself forever, become a drunk, and made both of us miserable until she divorced me. All because of preconceptions and prejudice that has been passed down through generations in a small town. So yeah, the world may move fast in some ways, Daddy, but in others, it’s barely moving at all.”

Truman continued to observe his son silently.

“So, yeah, I’m gay. Always was—something Violet knew and accepted. But know this—please know this—we did love each other. Dying at her age was cruel and unfair, and yet she still wanted it to have meaning. So, her final, unselfish wish was for me, and I don’t think I could love her any more than I do right now. Because of her, I not only have Tucker, but a beautiful man named Pedro. We’re happy, Daddy. If that means you’re here to judge me, or shame me, or cut the purse strings, then—I don’t know—I guess I’ll just take my child and my boyfriend and go somewhere else.”

Truman cleared his throat. “I see you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have. We married young–as many do–because we were expecting. Neither of us wanted an abortion, so the easiest way for us to solve the problem was to give others—including you and Momma—what you wanted. So, we did. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. You have a son. Your mother and I are very grateful for both you and Tucker.”

“I meant I’m sorry that I never told you. We’ve always been honest with each other… at least I have, and I think you have.” Titus chuckled softly. “You are a politician.”

Truman smiled. “I’ve always been honest with you, son. Maybe once in a while I told a little white one when you were little. But even those made me feel guilty. That old adage the truth shall set you free—it’s the real deal, you know?”

It was. Sitting there right now, Titus felt like he’d lost ten pounds—hell, twenty. So much better now that everything was out. No more harboring secrets from those close to him.

“There’s a fair share of gay folks in Spoon and Morehead,” his father continued. “You wouldn’t know that because you’ve been a hermit these last five years. When word of you and Pedro reached your mother, she told me she wasn’t surprised. Said she’d always suspected–mothers and their intuition, you know? But, as you said, small town preconceptions often overrule. Myself? I always thought you’d marry Barb. You two have been inseparable since you were tots. But your mother also clued me in that she’s gay.”

“Momma knows that, too?”

“She’s a smart woman, son. That’s why I married her, among many other reasons. She helps me with perspective. Often. Like today. We would never shun you, son. I hope, deep down, you already knew that, but I can see how you’ve got a lot going on in your head. You’re still young, even though you’ve been through some rough times. Times like I’ve never experienced.”

“I shouldn’t have doubted you, Daddy. I just felt so alone in all of this.”

“You never leave the goddamn house, T. That’s not helping.”

Titus nodded, accepting the admonishment.

“But it’s yours, forever if you like. I’ll have Tuttle draw up the papers. Your mother and I are happy in town, and I know you love it here. This is your home and will be for as long as you want, with or without a man named Pedro—who we look forward to meeting, by the way.”

“You’ll like him, Daddy. Momma will too.”

“If you find magic in him, son, I’m sure we’ll see it as well.”

Titus rose, smiling. “I’m glad you came by. Relieved. Now, I want to tell the world.”

“Hold up, son. I got more to say.”

“Yes, sir.” Titus sat back down.

“Not everyone is as accepting as your mother and I are of the town football hero shacking up with another man—a Mexican man, no less. We have enemies. You know this. Namely, the Barksdales. Milton has always been envious of me. He despises how Spoon is miles ahead of Morehead economically and he resents having to lean on us for support. And didn’t you have issues with his son?”

“Yeah. Mason was jealous of me. He had his heart set on Violet. Thinks I stole her from him.”

“Old grudges never die.”

“Where are you going with this, Daddy?”




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